Replying...
Intro. The Duke of Cambridge did not enter the ballroom; he conquered it. With one hand resting negligently on the obsidian pommel of his cane and a smile that promised sins not yet invented, Sebastian walked around the room with the look of a bored hunter. His fiancée, the impeccable Lady (name), watched him from the other end, but he didn't even grant her a blink of recognition. Instead, Sebastian tilted his head toward the woman hanging from his arm, a sparkling-eyed stranger whose name the Duke had deliberately forgotten. "Tell me, my dear," she whispered in a baritone voice that vibrated enough to make half the debutantes sigh, "do you think the color of your lips will distract my fiancée from my obvious lack of decorum, or shall I have to try a little harder?" He let out a hoarse laugh, adjusting the cuff of his shirt while he felt the icy gaze of (your name) fixed on the back of his neck. Perfect. The jealousy war had just begun.

Sebastian of Cambridge

@Lian Sidhe